Sleepless in Western Capital
by theshadowedmoon
Summary: Trunks and Goten decide to find a wife for Yamcha. Can the ex-desert bandit survive the chibis attempts?
1. Evolution of a Plot

"Sleepless in Western Capital"  
by ladymoonlight  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z or the movie from which I got the title. So don't sue me.   
A/N.:: This is another story in the growing Goten/Trunks saga. It takes place after the events of Goten and Trunks Bogus Journey (a few months after the Buu saga). This is a pro-Yamcha fic. I'm a Yamcha fan and proud of it! I refer to Pu'ar as a female in this fic (I know there is some ambiguity about Pu'ar's gender). And this is not a Yamcha/Pu'ar pairing.   
Goten happily slurped at the half-melted strawberry milkshake, his feet dangling over the edge of the bench. Beside him sat his best friend in the whole-wide-world, Trunks. On either side of the "partners in crime" were their mothers, Chichi and Bulma. The group had come to spend the afternoon at Western Capital Metropolitan Zoo. The two demi-Saiyans were consuming their sixth milkshake of the day. Normally, Goten would be gabbing away, much like his mother and Bulma, but there was an intense look on Trunks's face that told him that the other boy was paying attention to their mother's conversation and didn't wish to be bothered.  
  
"So, Pu'ar is worried about him, huh?" commented Chichi as she leaned back against the bench, tilting her head back to greet the warm sunshine.  
  
"Yup. She called the other day. Which isn't unusual. But I could tell something was wrong by the tone in her voice," stated Bulma, licking her index finger and scrubbing a smudge on Trunks's cheek. "She says he just hasn't been the same lately. That he mopes around feeling sorry for himself."  
  
"Poor dear…" murmured the brunette.  
  
"I feel partly to blame…you know…for everything," Bulma glanced down at Trunks and then back at Chichi. The women nodded to one another. They both knew things had been rough right after Trunks's birth for all parties involved. "But honestly, I thought he was over all of that…"  
  
"And it's been at least three years since he referred to Vegeta as 'that lousy girl-friend stealing jerk'," added Chichi. Granted she did edit the phrase. Vegeta usually used the noun 'bastard' instead of the more child-friendly 'jerk.'  
  
Bulma let out a heavy sigh. "I know…but still, it must be hard on him. Goku, Kuririn, and I are all married with children. He's just…all alone."  
  
"Yes, very true," concurred Chichi. "But there's nothing that we can do, is there?"  
  
"No, there isn't. Oh well. Okay, Goten, Trunks…are you ready to go see the monkeys?" asked Bulma, trying to smile away her worries.  
  
"Alright!" cried Goten, jumping to his feet and doing a little dance.  
  
Trunks calmly stood up and threw away the empty paper cup. It was true that his mother probably couldn't do anything about Yamcha's loneliness. But that didn't stop *him* from trying.  
****  
Goten let out a small noise of delight as he watched the angelfish swim lazily past the glass. "Look, Trunks-kun! Fishies!" he shouted, calling his friend to his side.  
  
Trunks dully watched the fish for a moment before commenting. "Nice." He glanced over his shoulder to make sure his mother and Chichi-san were out of hearing range. The women were preoccupied with a jellyfish display on the opposite side of the cavernous room. Leaning in close to Goten, he whispered in his friend's ear. "Hey, Chibi. I need your help."  
  
Goten turned and stared skeptically at his life-long companion. The last time the lavender-haired boy had asked for help he had been grounded for a week for hog-tying Mr. Piccolo. Whenever Trunks was involved, it was sure to mean trouble. But the glowing innocent look in the other boy's baby-blue eyes melted Goten's resolve. The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them. "Sure…what is it Trunks-kun?"   
  
Trunks flashed a dazzling smile. "Remember what our mom's were talking about a little bit ago?"  
  
"Oh, about the number of calories in those new diet ice cream bars they've been eating?" chirped Goten obediently.  
  
"No, baka. About Uncle Yamcha," replied Trunks, rolling his eyes in frustration.  
  
"Oh. You mean about Uncle Yamcha being lonely?"  
  
"Yep. That's it!"  
  
"What about it?"  
  
Trunks took in a deep breath. He always found that it took a great deal of time and patience to explain something to Goten. "I think I have a plan on how to make Yamcha-san feel happy again."  
  
"Oh! Oh! Tell me! Tell me!" stated Goten excitedly, jumping from one foot to another.  
  
"Hush! Don't let them hear you," ordered Trunks, jerking his thumb in the direction of Bulma and Chichi. "My plan is simple. My guess is that he's lonely because he doesn't have anyone to love. Everyone else has husbands and wives except for him and he feels left out. All we have to do is find Uncle Yamcha a wife and then he'll be happy."  
  
Goten scrunched up his face. "But Trunks-kun, where will we find him a wife?"  
  
Trunks sighed and rolled his eyes again. "Oh, come on, Goten. How hard can it be to find a wife? Anyway, ask your mom if you can come over tomorrow and then we can get started. This plan is foolproof. It's gotta work!"  
  
Goten frowned, but didn't say anything. There was no stopping Trunks once he set his mind to something. Maybe Trunks was right. How hard could it be to find a wife for Yamcha anyway? 


	2. Help From a Blue ShapeShifter

Sorry for the delay. Of course, only two people reviewed. Those two people are now my personal heroes and have my undying love and affection. Not that it's worth much. *grins* Anyway, review if you read this, even if its to tell me that it sucks.   
  
~ladymoonlight  
  
Sleepless in Western Capital  
Chapter Two  
Trunks and Goten stood side-by-side on the concrete stoop. The younger boy fidgeted with the hem of the elaborate yellow shirt in which his mother had dressed him. She had refused to let him wear just his training gi, even though any other clothing would inevitably get torn. Instead, Chichi had insisted that Goten wear the yellow and green Chinese-style outfit, complete with the oversized hat with the four-star dragonball attached. Goten was quite aware that he looked absolutely ridiculous next to Trunks who was dressed in a plain grey t-shirt with the Capsule Corp. logo printed on it and a pair of faded blue jeans.   
  
Trunks, the head of the operation, stood on tiptoe to ring the doorbell. The two boys stood at perfect attention while they waited for the occupants of the house to answer. They could hear shuffling and a muffled "coming." Then the door swung open. Yamcha glanced down at them, unable to hide the shocked expression on his face.  
  
"Goten! Trunks! What are you two doing here?" asked the tall fighter, leaning down to be on face level with the two chibis.  
  
"Hi, Uncle Yamcha," stated Trunks formally. "We were wondering if Pu'ar-san was here."  
  
"Um...yeah. Come right in." He stepped to the side to let them pass. "Hey! Pu'ar! You have company. Make yourself at home, boys."  
  
Pu'ar arrived in the living room as the two children settled onto the beer-stained love-seat. She stared at the pair for a moment, glancing towards Yamcha for help. He shrugged, letting her know that he was as clueless as she was.   
  
"Well, I was just heading out to work. Pu'ar, make sure they don't burn down the house." Yamcha shrugged into his brown leather jacket and snatched up his keys. "Ja ne!"  
  
"Ja ne, Uncle Yamcha!" called the two boys in unison.  
  
As soon as the door clicked shut, Trunks turned to Goten, an excited look on his face. "He's gone! This is working better than I had planned!"  
  
Pu'ar's face pinched into a frown. "What exactly do you have planned?" asked the feline warily.  
Trunks's blue eyes lit up with excitement. "I have this really great plan, but we need your help..."  
  
"No, I won't shape shift for you," interrupted Pu'ar.  
  
Trunks blinked. "Huh?"  
  
"I'm sure you're mother has told you I'm a shapeshifter, so no, I won't shapeshift into some monster to terrify the other children at school, or into Vegeta and scare Yamcha...or anything else," stated Pu'ar dully.  
  
"Hey...that's a really good idea," muttered Trunks to himself. Then he shook his head and tried to focus on the task at hand. "That's not why we're here, Pu'ar-san."  
  
"Really?" she asked, unsure of whether or not she could be relieved yet.  
  
Trunks vehemently bobbed his head up and down. "We were wondering if you could tell us what sort of women Uncle Yamcha likes..."  
  
Pu'ar sweatdropped. "Why do you want to know that?"  
  
"So we can find him a wife," piped up Goten.  
  
"WHAT?!?" cried the feline.   
  
Trunks quickly defended himself. "Mom said that you were worried about him!"   
  
"Yeah!" stated Goten. "We just want to help Uncle Yamcha not be lonely any more."  
  
Pu'ar looked from one child to the other. She was touched by the look of sincerity on their faces. Sighing, she flopped backwards onto the armchair. "Fine. I'll help."  
  
Trunks and Goten let out whoops of triumph. Trunks pulled out a memo pad and his favorite blue crayon. "So, tell me...what kinda girl does Uncle Yamcha like?"  
  
Pu'ar tilted her head to the side and tried to remember the type of women that Yamcha usually dated. "Well, they should be smart. He has dated a few dimwits, but that usually didn't last long." She paused before continuing. "That's one of the things he liked best about your mother. He always respected her intelligence."  
  
Trunks blushed slightly. Goten frowned; as far as he was concerned, Vegeta and Bulma had always been together. He didn't quite understand the concept of a relationship beginning and ending. The only relationship he had to go by was the one he had with Trunks, and he had *always* been friends with Trunks. He didn't understand that it could be any other way.  
  
"What else?" asked Trunks diplomatically, trying to move on from the sticky subject.  
  
"She'll have to be sweet. A good sense of humor." Pu'ar smiled. "She has to like cats..."  
  
Trunks grinned and underlined "likes cats" twice.  
  
Pu'ar's tail swished back and forth as she thought for a moment. "A little shy, but willing to stand up for herself. She has to be understanding. Yamcha really values a girl he can trust and who he feels comfortable talking to. Not to mention, a girl would have to be very *understanding* considering the company Yamcha keeps," she stated, gesturing to herself and the boys.  
  
Trunks nodded knowingly.   
  
"Looks wise...she doesn't have to be a supermodel. Yamcha looks for personality over appearance...most of the time. He likes blondes, but that's not essential. I don't think he's ever mentioned a favorite eye color. He *does* prefer for the girl to be shorter than him. And he likes for a girl to be...um...well-endowed." Pu'ar shifted nervously.  
  
Goten scrunched up his nose. "What does 'well-endowed' mean?" he asked, turning to Trunks.  
  
"It means she has to have big t..."  
  
"TRUNKS!" interrupted Pu'ar, her voice squeaking.  
  
The boy ducked his head. "Sumimasan."  
  
Goten shrugged. He didn't let it bother him. He knew that Trunks would explain it later when they were alone.  
  
"I think that's a good start," stated Trunks as he flipped the memo pad closed. "Thanks a bunch, Pu'ar-san."  
  
"I just hope I don't end up regretting this," muttered the feline under her breath. She showed the two boys out. As she watched them disappear down the sidewalk she couldn't help hoping for Yamcha's sake that their plan would somehow work out. 


	3. The Third Coconspirator

Goten firmly grasped the back of Trunks shirt as the two boys made their way through the maze that was the main office of Capsule Corp. Men and women bustled between desks, passing memos, checking files, shouting the latest stock reports. Goten's eyes were wide as he observed the frenzied activity. However, Trunks seemed nonplused, having grown up in this atmosphere.  
  
The pair of boys made their way towards the giant oak doors at the opposite side of the office. Trunks came to a stop in front of the desk that stood in front of his mother's private office. The woman behind the desk was typing furiously at the keyboard before her, her eyes fixed on the glowing monitor in front of her. Her glasses reflected the blue light of the screen. Her pink hair was pulled into a messy bun, dozens of escaped wisps blowing in the office air conditioning. She was oblivious to the children in front of her.  
  
Trunks held his fist to his mouth and softly cleared his throat. "Tereda-san?"  
  
Megumi Tereda, personal secretary to Bulma Briefs, glanced away from the monitor. Her green eyes blinked as they readjusted after the glare from the computer. It took her a brief moment to register the two children. A small smile graced her lips as she recognized her boss's only child.   
  
"Well, good day, Mr. Briefs," she stated formally. "What can I do for you today?"  
  
She leaned forward across her desk, propping herself up on her elbows. Her glasses slid down to the tip of her nose and she studied the two youngsters over the black rims.  
  
Remembering the boy who was still clutching his shirt, Trunks gestured to his best friend who was huddled behind him. "This is my friend, Son Goten. Goten, this is mom's secretary, Tereda Megumi."  
  
"Pleased to meet you," stated Goten in a small, polite voice.  
  
"Likewise," replied Megumi. She tilted her head to the side. "Son, is it? I remember your parents. You look just like your father."  
  
Goten grinned. "I get that a lot."  
  
Trunks spoke up, attempting to steer the conversation back to the matter at hand. "We need your help, Tereda-san."  
  
"I am here to serve you," answered Megumi, gesturing dramatically.  
  
Goten smiled and stepped away from Trunks. He was beginning to like Tereda-san and felt more at ease.  
  
"Do you remember Yamcha-san?" inquired Trunks nervously.  
  
Megumi raised one slender eyebrow. "Your mother's....old friend. Yes, I recall him."  
  
Trunks and Goten glanced at one another before continuing.   
  
"We want to find him a wife."  
  
"I beg your pardon!" exclaimed Megumi incredulously, unable to conceal her shock.  
  
"Uncle Yamcha is lonely," whined Goten.  
  
"We only want to help," added Trunks, once again defending himself.  
  
The secretary leaned back gracefully in her chair, arms folded across her chest. "And how do I fit into this little plot of yours, ne?"  
  
"Well...you're in charge of the company newsletter, right?" asked Trunks.  
  
"Yes," drawled the woman, unsure what that had to do with anything.  
  
"Well, we wanted you to put a personal ad in the newsletter," explained the older boy. "For Uncle Yamcha."  
  
Megumi simply stared at the child.  
  
"There are lots of women who work for the company," continued Trunks. "And I bet lots are single. It shouldn't be too hard to find one for Yamcha-san."  
  
"Isn't that a really cool idea?" asked Goten excitedly. "Trunks is awesome!"  
  
The lavender-haired boy stood a little straighter, basking in his friend's praise.  
  
Megumi shook her head and studied the pair in front of her. "I guess I have no choice. Who could resist two charming young gentlemen such as yourselves?"   
  
She was rewarded with two glowing smiles from the boys.   
  
Megumi turned to Trunks. "Does your mother know about this?"  
  
The child replied by ducking his head and shuffling his feet.  
  
"I take that as a 'no'," she said.   
  
"But you've got to help us!" protested Trunks.  
  
"Please!" begged Goten.  
  
Megumi held up her hands. "I didn't say that I had changed my mind! I'll help. I promise."  
  
The boys let out whoops of triumph and did a quick victory dance. The woman laughed at the two enthusiastic children.  
  
"So what do you need me to do?" she asked.  
  
Trunks leaned forward conspiratorially. "Okay...here's the plan..."  
  
*The following Wednesday*  
  
Bulma and Vegeta sat across the table from one another. The Saiyan was polishing off his seventh sandwich while his wife read the Capsule Corp. newsletter and sipped on hot tea. Bulma's eyes widened as she scanned the paper in her hand.  
  
"Trunks Vegeta Briefs," she hissed softly under her breath.  
  
Vegeta looked up. Whatever his son had done, it must have been bad for his wife to use the child's full name.   
  
"What is it, woman?" barked Vegeta, staring quizzically at his mate.  
  
"Look at what your son has done," she stated cooly, handing him the newsletter.  
  
Vegeta looked down at the paper in the hands, searching for his son's handwork. His eyes fell on a particular paragraph.  
  
Single white male seeking single female.  
  
Name is Yamcha; coach for professional baseball team;   
  
tall, dark, and handsome. Looking for a woman with a  
  
great personality and a love of life. Ready for a serious   
  
relationship. If interested, call:  
  
Megumi Tereda, ext. 7667  
  
or  
  
  
  
Trunks Briefs, ext. 2053  
  
Thank you.  
  
Vegeta blinked and reread the paragraph. Then he began to laugh and no amount of threats from his wife could make him stop. 


	4. Predate Preparations

One week had passed since the ad had appeared in the Capsule Corp. newsletter. The boys had been right. Hundreds of women had replied to the ad, all eager to meet the mystery man they had read about. Now it was time to decide which candidates would make it to phase two: a date with Yamcha.  
  
Trunks and Goten were once again standing before Megumi Tereda's desk. The pink-haired woman was idly twirling a pen in her hand while she spoke on the phone with the marketing manager.  
  
"He wants how much?" she demanded. She let out a grunt of disgust. "Well, tell Mr. Satan he can forget about endorsing our product unless he agrees to lower his price. I don't care who he is. He's publicity hungry. He'll cave if we press him enough. You got that, Miki? Okay. Ja ne."  
  
Megumi slammed down the phone and then turned to the two boys. "Sorry to keep you waiting."  
  
"That's fine," stated Trunks hurriedly. He was ready to get working. "Where are the applications you were talking about?"  
  
Megumi patted a tall pile of papers that sat on the corner of her desk. "I received about eight-hundred. I've weeded out the obvious 'no's' and this is what's left. I would say roughly three-hundred."  
  
"Wow," whispered Goten in awe. He was impressed, especially since he couldn't count that high.  
  
"This is going better than I had planned!" stated Trunks with a smile.  
  
"Well, you didn't have to filter through all of those," replied Megumi, waving her hand to indicate the pile.   
  
"Thank you very much," replied the lavender-haired boy appreciatively.  
  
Megumi shrugged. She picked the top ten papers off of the stack and laid them out across her desk.   
  
"I narrowed it down to these," she explained. "They had the best applications. I figured you two can pick out the winner."  
  
Trunks and Goten exchanged a glance. The older boy nodded to his friend.  
  
"You pick, Chibi."  
  
Goten hesitated a moment and then stood on tiptoe. He scanned over the papers spread out across the desk.   
  
"Hm…I pick…this one!" He pointed to the one of the far right. "Kinomoto Usagi. I like that name.'  
  
Megumi picked up the paper and scanned over the writing. "Well, then. I'll inform Yamcha-san that he has a date tonight with Kinomoto-san. We'll be leaving at 7:00 sharp, so you two be ready."  
  
"Hai!" they chirped in unison.  
  
"I'll take care of the rest," stated the pink-haired woman.  
  
******  
  
Yamcha was sprawled out across the couch, his eyes glazed as he watched the television. Another pointless day in his worthless life. He let out a heavy sigh and flipped the channel. Pu'ar was curled up on the back of the couch, her tail switching back and forth. Their quiet afternoon was shattered by the phone ringing.  
  
"I'll get it," offered Pu'ar as she hovered into the air.   
  
Yamcha heard her answer the phone in the kitchen. After a moment, she called out for him.  
  
"It's for you, Yamcha-kun!"  
  
The tall man frowned and slowly got up off of the couch. He sluggishly walked to the kitchen. "Those stupid managers better not have planned another practice without informing me again," he grumbled as he leaned against the doorframe. Pu'ar passed him the phone. "This is Yamcha. Whadduya want?"  
  
"Good day, sir. This is Tereda Megumi, Briefs-san's personal secretary," replied the voice on the other end of the line.  
  
Yamcha thought for a moment. He knew that he recognized the voice. Then he remembered that this was the woman that he had usually called to cancel dates with Bulma. "Um…hello, Tereda-san. How can I help you?" he asked nervously.  
  
"Please, call me Megumi. I was calling concerning your date for tonight…"  
  
"Date?" interrupted Yamcha. He glanced over to where Pu'ar had been hovering nearby a moment ago only to find that she had disappeared. "What date?"  
  
"You're date with Kinomoto Usagi…"  
  
"With who?"  
  
"Yamcha-san, if you would kindly stop interrupting me, I would explain everything," stated Megumi firmly, sounding more than a little miffed.  
  
"Excuse me," grunted Yamcha.  
  
"You're excused. As I was trying to say, I'm calling to arrange plans for your date with Kinomoto Usagi for tonight…"  
  
"Who the heck is this Kino-whatever chick and how on earth do I have a date with her?"  
  
"YAMCHA-SAN!"   
  
"Gomen," he murmured.  
  
"You should be much more appreciative of all the hard work that Goten and Trunks have done to make this possible…"  
  
Yamcha's chest tightened with the beginnings of an anxiety attack. If the two children were involved, it wasn't a good sign. "Goten and Trunks?"   
  
There was a heavy sigh on the other end of the line. "Yes. They've been very concerned about your…marital status. So, they decided to help out by finding you a girlfriend. Think of this as a free dating service."  
  
"I don't need help with my love life from two little kids," spat Yamcha. He looked around for Pu'ar. She was still no where to be found. Suddenly, he had the sinking feeling that she was involved in all of this.   
  
"Are you sure about that?" retorted Megumi.   
  
"Listen…" began Yamcha.  
  
"No. I apologize. That was…harsh. But you should give the boy's idea a chance. They really care about you, Yamcha-san. It would break their hearts if you didn't at least play along. And who knows? Maybe you'll find 'the one'."  
  
Yamcha sighed and pressed his forehead against the wood-paneling of the doorframe. "Okay, fine. What do I have to do?"  
  
"I knew you would understand!" exclaimed Megumi happily. "The boys and I will be at your house at 7:15 tonight. You'll be picking Kinomoto-san up at 8:30 exactly. I have reservations for two at a local restuarant. We'll discuss matters in detail when I arrive. Ja ne!"  
  
"Ja ne," replied Yamcha dully. But Megumi had already hung up the phone.  
  
*****  
  
"The least you could do was warn me," complained Yamcha as he ran a comb through his hair for the fortieth time. He glanced at the alarm clock sitting on the bedside table. 7:12 PM. He growled and began to readjust his tie.  
  
"If I had said anything you would have refused!" replied Pu'ar in her squeaky little voice.  
  
"This entire idea is madness," continued the tall warrior. "I don't know anything about this Kinomata…"  
  
"Kinomoto," interjected Pu'ar.  
  
"Whatever. I don't know anything about this girl. She could be a serial killer…or something."  
  
The blue feline rolled her eyes. "Like that's possible."  
  
"It is possible, Pu'ar," retorted Yamcha. "I could be putting my life at risk."  
  
"Should I even bother mentioning all those times you ran off to face some undefeatable villain?" asked the cat.  
  
"This is different."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"This is a woman. Women are devious, manipulating, malicious…"  
  
"Excuse me. What is my gender again?"  
  
"Sorry."  
  
The conversation was interrupted by the soft chime of the door bell. Yamcha felt his stomach knot. There was no escaping now.  
  
"Well, are you going to answer the door?" asked Pu'ar, staring at the frozen man in front of her.  
  
Yamcha shot her a nasty look and then made his way to the front of the apartment. He stopped in front of the door and simply stared at the doorknob. Taking in a deep breath he opened the door.  
  
"Koban wa," greeted the woman that was standing on the front stoop.  
  
Yamcha gawked at her. Pink-hair fell down past her shoulders to her mid-back. Brilliant, emerald-green eyes shone behind black-rimmed glasses. She was dressed smartly in a deep amethyst pants suit.  
  
"Please tell me you're my date," breathed Yamcha.  
  
The woman blushed and ducked her head. Trunks and Goten, who had been standing on either side of her, totally unnoticed by Yamcha, glanced at each other.  
  
"Um, no," spoke up the older boy. "This is Tereda Megumi. Mom's secretary. She's here to help you get ready."  
  
Yamcha's face turned crimson. "Tereda-san! Of course, I remember you now. It's been awhile since I've seen you face to face."  
  
"It was Briefs-san's baby shower. For Trunks-kun," murmured Megumi softly. She cleared her throat. "May we come in?"  
  
"Yes, of course!" stated Yamcha as he stepped aside.   
  
Megumi glanced at him as she stepped inside. "Is that what you're wearing tonight?"  
  
Yamcha frowned and glanced down at the pair of khaki's and the white dress shirt he was wearing. The tie was yellow with small blue polka-dots. "Is there something wrong?" he asked defensively.   
  
"Well, no…" began Megumi.  
  
"The tie is tacky," stated Trunks.   
  
The woman nudged the boy. "Don't be so rude, Tru..tru…" She broke off with a loud sneeze.  
  
"Bless you," chirped Goten.  
  
"Thanks," sniffled Megumi, rubbing her nose. She sneezed again. "Oh, dear."  
  
"Are you okay?" asked Yamcha, a slight frown tugging at his lips.  
  
"I'm fine…" she murmured. She glanced up at him and then past his shoulder, where Pu'ar was floating. "Oh. You have a cat."  
  
"This is Pu'ar," stated Yamcha. "Pu'ar, this is Tereda Megumi."  
  
"Pleased to meet you," squeaked the floating feline.  
  
"Likewise," replied Megumi. She sneezed again. "I'm ever so sorry, but I'm allergic to cats."  
  
"Oh," muttered Pu'ar, looking dejected. "If you would like, I could leave…"  
  
"Heavens, no," replied Megumi. "I can handle a couple of sniffles for the next hour." She turned back to Yamcha. "Now about your clothes…"  
  
"What's wrong with them?" he asked defensively.   
  
"Nothing. It's just not the sort of thing you would wear to 'Henry's'…"  
  
"'Henry's'?"  
  
"Oh, that new ritzy restaurant that overlooks the park?" gasped Pu'ar.   
  
"Yep," replied Trunks. "Mom says it's real nice. And romantic."   
  
"Yeah, romantic," agreed Goten.  
  
Both boys grinned up at Yamcha.  
  
"But isn't it also expensive," muttered the tall warrior. He blushed slightly. "I don't have that sort of money. Not even for a special occasion."  
  
Megumi nudged Trunks. The boy dug into his back pocket and pulled out a credit card. He held it up to Yamcha.  
  
"Mom says to have fun tonight and good luck."  
  
Yamcha glanced down at the card in Trunks's hand and then shook his head. "I can't take that…"  
  
"Briefs-san insists," stated Megumi firmly, taking the card from Trunks and pressing it into Yamcha's hand. "She's really wishing for the best for you. It would be an insult not to take it."  
  
Yamcha took in a deep breath and nodded. "Tell her thanks," he murmured softly.  
  
"Of course," replied Megumi with a smile. She turned to the two boys. "Now how about we help Uncle Yamcha find a decent outfit?"  
  
******  
  
At exactly 8:00 Yamcha was heading out the door. For the first time in history he was going to be on time for a date. He was dressed in a light grey suit, a white dress shirt, and a black bow-tie. He had to admit, Megumi didn't do such a bad job.   
  
"You're forgetting something!" called out the pink-haired woman from the doorway. She held up her car keys and jingled them. "Take my car."  
  
Yamcha glanced towards her silver sports car. "Are you sure?"  
  
"Yep. My way of saying good luck tonight," she replied, tossing him the keys. He caught them effortlessly. "You're gonna knock her dead."  
  
"Thanks," he stated with a grin.   
  
"Good luck, Uncle Yamcha!" called Goten.  
  
"You'll do great!" added Pu'ar.  
  
Trunks didn't say anything. He was leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed, looking exactly like his father. He smirked and then winked. Yamcha winked back.  
  
Yamcha slipped inside the car. He paused for a moment to admire the leather interior and the top-of-the-line sound system. Then he cranked the car and pulled away from the curb.  
  
Megumi and the others watched as the car disappeared around the corner. She glanced down at her wristwatch.   
  
"Well, boys. We had better hurry. Our reservations for four are at 8:45. We don't want to be late."  
  
"'Four'?" asked Pu'ar.  
  
"You're coming too, right Pu'ar-san?" asked Trunks.  
  
"Please?" whined Goten.  
  
"Of course, she is," replied Megumi, smiling at the cat.  
  
Pu'ar grinned back at her. Then the four of them headed back inside to get ready. They had some spying to do. 


	5. Date 1 and Aftermath

The host warily glanced up at the unusual group before him. One was a woman with pink-hair falling down to mid-back. She was wearing a deep green Chinese dress and seemed to be in the middle of an uncontrollable sneezing fit. The blue feline which floated beside her was guiltily trying to put as much distance between herself and the sniffling woman. In front of them stood two boys, each dressed in uncomfortable looking black suits.   
  
"Reservation for four, Tereda," stated the pink-haired woman as she politely blew her nose into a handkerchief.   
  
The host gave an icy look at the feline. "Right this way," he drawled, ushering them to a table in a corner.  
  
Trunks politely pulled out Megumi's seat for her. She smiled gratefully at the young boy. Goten did the same favor for Pu'ar. Then they took their own seats.  
  
"Do you see them?" asked Trunks, scanning the crowded dining room for signs of Yamcha or his date.  
  
"Maybe they're not here yet," suggested Goten as he craned to get a better view.   
  
"No, I see Kinomoto-san right there," stated Megumi. "She's there in the pink dress. The one with blue hair pulled into two buns. They just arrived."  
  
Yamcha escorted his date to their table. He moved forward to pull out her chair, but Usagi held up her hand.   
  
"I'll get it. I like to think I'm a modern, independent woman," she stated, chuckling slightly.  
  
Yamcha laughed nervously and tugged at his collar. He slipped into the chair across from Usagi as she primly sat down. She smiled encouragingly at him.  
  
"Don't worry. You earned brownie points for trying," she stated, her eyes sparkling with silent laughter.  
  
Yamcha grinned at her and unfolded his menu. "Sorry. I just haven't really dated for a long time," he explained as he stared intently at the menu.   
  
"Same here," replied Usagi. "I just got out of a long-term relationship myself."  
  
"Oh?" Yamcha squirmed slightly. He smiled and tried his best to look interested. However, he felt like he was going to pass out instead.  
  
Usagi shrugged her shoulders casually. "I guess it just wasn't meant to be," she stated wistfully. "Difference of opinion and all."  
  
"If you don't mind me asking, what was it over?" asked the dark-haired man as he dared to glance at her. He mentally noted that she was quite attractive. She had a slender form with gentle curves. Yellow-gold eyes contrasted the soft blue of her hair. A small smile quirked on the corner of Yamcha's lips.  
  
"Children," stated the young woman bluntly. She looked up and met his eyes, trying to gauge his reaction.  
  
Yamcha raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess, you wanted them, he didn't?"  
  
Usagi nodded firmly. She glanced shyly at him. "What do you think about children?"  
  
Yamcha thought of his "nephews," Trunks and Goten, and smiled. "I like children. It feels strange to think of having one of my own. It takes a lot of responsibility and I want to make sure I'm completely ready, so I can be the best possible father."  
  
Usagi simply stared at Yamcha, a soft glow to her eyes. "That is so sweet!" she cooed. She covered her mouth and let out a girlish giggle. "Not many guys approach it that way."  
  
Yamcha grinned. "I'm not most guys."  
  
"No, you don't seem to be," replied the young woman, a cryptic smile crossing her lips.   
  
As the night wore on, Yamcha found himself loosening up. It was easy to do around Usagi. Her sweet personality drew him out and he found it easy to talk to her. And they had a lot in common. The same taste in movies and music. Usagi had even taken a few martial arts classes, though she had never earned a belt. The conversation was going great and the meal had promptly arrived.   
  
Usagi primly folded her napkin and set it on the table. "If you'll excuse me, I need to go powder my nose," she stated with a grin.  
  
Yamcha followed her with his eyes as she made her way across the restaurant. When he turned back he was surprised to find Usagi's chair occupied. Megumi smiled sweetly at him.  
  
"How's it going?" she whispered conspiratorially, leaning in close.   
  
Yamcha blinked. "What are you doing here?" he demanded.  
  
"Can we not go out for dinner?" asked Megumi with mock innocence.  
  
"'We'?" croaked Yamcha. It was only then that he noticed Pu'ar floating to the right and slightly behind him. He was flanked on either side by Goten and Trunks.   
  
"Are you in love with her yet, Uncle Yamcha?" asked Goten eagerly.  
  
"Stupid," snorted Trunks. "It takes at least a couple more hours before he could be in love with her."  
  
"I'm not stupid," replied Goten, leaning across Yamcha's lap. He stuck out his tongue at his best friend. Trunks returned in like.   
  
Yamcha sighed and gently pushed the boys apart. "Things are going just fine for your information," he stated airily. He turned to Pu'ar and gave her a 'you-should-know-better' look. The feline just smiled and swished her tail back and forth.   
  
"Tereda-san?" asked a slightly confused voice from behind the warrior.  
  
The group turned to see that Usagi had returned. She was studying the new additions with great interest.   
  
"Kinomoto-san!" replied Megumi, gracefully standing up and pulling out the chair she had occupied. "Ever so sorry, but we just wanted to have a little chat with Yamcha-san. We won't interrupt any longer."  
  
Usagi smiled as she slipped back into her chair. "It's awfully nice of you to check on him like that, Tereda-san." There was a coolness to Usagi's voice that made Megumi smile nervously.  
  
"Come on boys. We had better leave Uncle Yamcha alone now," stated the pink-haired girl, leading Trunks and Goten away.  
  
"Bye, Uncle Yamcha," they called out in unison.  
  
"'Uncle Yamcha'?" asked Usagi delicately.  
  
The dark-haired man shrugged. "They're not really my nephews. I'm a family friend. They're sort of adopted me as their uncle."  
  
Usagi grinned, the last remains of her defensiveness melting away. "That's adorable," she cooed. "They seem to be sweet little boys."  
  
Yamcha choked on his drink. "Yeah…sweet…," he grumbled. Carefully, he steered the conversation away from his "nephews."  
  
The rest of the night went smoothly. After dinner, Yamcha and Usagi strolled through the park. The moon shone beautifully across the inky-blackness of the pond. The weather was perfect, with a cool breeze rustling the trees in a dreamy sort of manner. Yamcha silently thought that even Kami-sama seemed to be on his side tonight.  
  
At the end of the evening, Yamcha walked Usagi to her front door. They stood shyly in underneath the porch light, both reluctant for the night to end. The dark-haired man hesitantly reached down and took her two small hands in his own.  
  
"Would you mind if I called you tomorrow?" asked Yamcha softly.  
  
A brilliant smile appeared on Usagi's face. "I would love that!"  
  
Yamcha grinned. "I'll call you tomorrow after I get off work. About seven, or so. Is that okay?"  
  
"Wonderful," breathed Usagi.   
  
For a moment they stood still on the front stoop. Yamcha was unsure what the best course of action would be so he opted for chivalry. He brought one hand to his lips and gently kissed the top of it. Usagi let out a soft giggle.  
  
"Sweet dreams," murmured Yamcha.  
  
"You too," replied Usagi.   
  
She smiled over her shoulder as she slipped inside the front door. Yamcha grinned and then sauntered back to the car. That had gone a lot better than he had thought it would.  
  
*  
  
Megumi pulled into the driveway in front of the residence area of Capsule Corp. She had already dropped off Pu'ar and now she had to deliver the children. She glanced at the two boys in the rearview mirror. They were curled up next to one another, fast asleep.   
  
She was barely out of the car when the door opened and Bulma walked out, followed closely by her husband. Megumi had only met Vegeta a few times, but she noted that his disposition didn't seem to change regardless of what time of day it was. The short man nodded and grunted a greeting before taking the boys in his arms and heading back inside.   
  
"How did it go?" asked Bulma eagerly.  
  
"It seemed to go very well," replied Megumi, as she ran her fingers through her thick, rose-colored hair. "It makes me nervous though. To think it's going this well with the first one."  
  
The blue-haired woman grinned and nudged her secretary. "Way to go, Megumi-chan. You probably just jinxed it."  
  
Megumi laughed. "We'll see. I'll see you tomorrow at work."  
  
The two women said farewell and then Megumi slipped into the car. Bulma watched as the taillights disappeared into the darkness and then went back inside to her husband.  
  
*  
  
Yamcha stretched tired muscles as he entered the apartment. It was six o'clock the next day. He wanted to have a bite to eat and a shower before he called Usagi. That had been the only thing on his mind all day long. He couldn't wait to hear her voice again.   
  
He stepped inside to the air-conditioned apartment and tossed his keys onto the small table in the front foyer. A small scrap of paper was left there. He picked it up and read it; Pu'ar had left the note to let him know she had gone over to Master Roshi's to spend the day with Oolong.   
  
Yamcha grumbled up the note and trudged through the living room to the kitchen. He lazily shot the paper ball into the trash can and then checked the answering machine.  
  
"Ten messages?" he asked out loud to the empty apartment. On a good day he got about five at the maximum. Cautiously he hit the play button.  
  
Messages one through four were Usagi; she just wanted to tell him how much fun she had last night. Message five was a telemarketer. Messages six through eight were Usagi again; she wanted to know if he was really at work. Message nine was Kuririn calling to remind him about having lunch at Kame House that weekend. Message ten was Usagi bawling into the receiver because Yamcha wouldn't pick up.  
  
Yamcha deleted the messages and wearily dialed Usagi's number. He distinctively remembered promising to call her at 7:00 and she had said that would be fine. He wasn't sure what had spurred the urge to leave so many messages.   
  
"Hai, moshi moshi," greeted Usagi after two rings.  
  
"Usagi-san?" asked Yamcha softly.  
  
"Oh," replied the woman, her voice turning steely. "Hello, Yamcha."  
  
He was baffled by her reaction. "Is something wrong? I got your messages…"  
  
"Well, I've been trying to call all day," interrupted Usagi, sounding exasperated.   
  
"I was at work. Remember, I told you I would call tonight…"  
  
Usagi broke in again. "Were you really at work? I mean, how can I trust you when you tell me that? You could be anywhere...with anybody…"  
  
"I beg your pardon?" asked Yamcha, feeling completely baffled.   
  
Now she began to cry. "You don't have to get so mean with me!" she replied. "I just don't want you going off somewhere when I don't know where you are."  
  
"But Usagi-san, you did know where I was!" argued Yamcha, beginning to lose his cool.   
  
"How can I be sure you're telling me the truth?" whimpered the woman.  
  
"You're right. You can't be sure," answered Yamcha glumly.   
  
"You admit it! Bastard!" And then she hung up.   
  
Yamcha stared at the receiver for a moment before hanging up. Obviously, there had been other issues that her and her ex hadn't been able to resolve. Sighing, he dialed the number to Megumi's office and left a message on her voice mail. Then he grabbed a beer out of the fridge and crashed on the couch to wait for Pu'ar to come home. 


	6. Date 2

Megumi sighed and ran her fingers through her messy pink hair. It was seven o'clock and most of the other employees had left the office two hours ago. But not Tereda Megumi, dedicated employee of Capsule Corp. Actually, it was the "side project" that she was helping Trunks and Goten with that had kept her late at the office. Her oak desk was littered with applications, some of which were stained with coffee rings, others with sticky chocolate fingerprints. Trunks and Goten both had managed to squeeze onto her lap. The boys were studying the applications, searching for "the one."

"What about this one?" asked Goten, holding up a paper. A picture of a girl with lime-green hair was paper-clipped to it.

"Nah. She's ugly," replied Trunks, barely glancing up as he shuffled through another stack. 

"Trunks!" chided Megumi.

The lavender-haired boy winced. "Sorry, Megumi-san."

Goten shrugged and tossed the application aside. He picked up one and read over it. This one says she has her own pair of handcuffs. Does that mean she's a police officer?" he asked, a puzzled look on his face.

Megumi snatched the paper away from him. "That one goes in the trash," she murmured, tossing it away.

"What about her?" asked Trunks, holding out an application for Megumi's inspection.

She froze when she saw the attached picture of a perky redhead. "Oh. Her," Megumi muttered, her eyes narrowing.

Trunks frowned. "Do you not like her?"

"Oh, no!" replied the woman, laughing nervously. _'Not like' is too weak of a phrase_, she added mentally. Taking a deep breath, Megumi took the paper from the boy, valiantly fighting the urge to rip it to shreds. "Is this the one you choose this time?" she asked the two children. This was their endeavor; ultimately, it was their choice.

Trunks and Goten studied the photo for a moment. The redhead had sparkling blue eyes and she was smiling sweetly.

"I think she's pretty," stated the spiky-haired boy.

"And it says that she likes baseball. She used to play softball herself," commented the older boy, pointing to the application.

Megumi nodded slowly, surrendering to the inevitable. "Fuseikoui Akane it is."

Yamcha sat patiently on the edge of his bed. Trunk and Goten were crouched on either side of him. They were busy trying to style his hair using extra-hold gel and a comb. Yamcha had been concerned at first that he would end up looking like on of their father's twins, but the boys had stayed away from copying Vegeta or Goku's hairstyle.

Megumi stood across from the trio. She was leaning against the bedroom wall, chewing her bottom lip thoughtfully. She couldn't understand how Yamcha could stay still with the two boys ripping out tuffs of hair as they "styled" his hair. The man seemed to have an incredible tolerance for pain.

Pu'ar hovered next to the pink-haired woman. She had been watching Megumi closely since the woman had arrived with the boys in tow. She could tell something was bothering her. "Are you okay, Megumi-san?" squeaked the floating cat.

Megumi jumped, jolted out of her reverie. She smiled half-heartedly and shrugged. "Yeah. Thanks Pu'ar-san."

"I noticed you aren't sneezing tonight," pointed out Yamcha.

"She took a handful of allergy pills before we left," explained Trunks as he sat back and surveyed his handiwork. "I think we're finished."

Yamcha silently prepared himself as he turned and looked in the mirror that was attached to his closet door. He was surprised by what he saw. The boys had messily spiked his hair, but somehow had made it look rugged instead of sloppy.

"What do you think?" asked Goten eagerly.

"I like it!" replied Yamcha. He reached out and ruffled the boys' hair. "Thanks, kiddos."

Megumi stepped forward, holding out a dark blue dress shirt and a pair of jeans. "Pu'ar and I picked out this outfit."

Yamcha took the clothes from her and stood up, sauntering over towards the bathroom. "What's the agenda for tonight?" he called over his shoulder. He disappeared into the bathroom to change.

"Dinner at a restaurant before heading over to that new night club that opened last week. I hope you can dance," called Megumi.

"I think I can manage," commented Yamcha as he reappeared. He rolled the sleeves of the shirt up to his elbows and glanced in the mirror. "How do I look?" he asked.

"Very handsome," replied Megumi. She blushed slightly after saying this. Trunks noticed this reaction, but didn't say anything.

"Thanks," replied Yamcha as he grinned roguishly. "Do you know anything about Fuseikoui-san, Megumi?"

The young woman paled. "We worked together once," she stated in a small voice.

"Oh?"

Megumi paused, looking uncertain whether or not to elaborate. Before she could say any more, Pu'ar spoke up. "It's seven-thirty. You only have a half-hour before you're supposed to pick up Fuseikoui-san," she commented.

"Right," stated Yamcha, snatching the car keys from his dresser.

"Good luck!" called Trunks and Goten in unison. 

Megumi only muttered darkly under her breath. Yamcha raised an eyebrow and was about to comment when the two boys ushered him out towards the door. He glanced over his shoulder as he headed towards the car. He wondered what was wrong with Megumi. But whatever dark mood had plagued her before seemed to have disappeared. She was waving along with the boys, smiling radiantly. Yamcha shrugged off her strange behavior and slid behind the steering wheel. He had his own problems to worry about.

Megumi felt as if her arms were going to be ripped off. Goten and Trunks walked on either side of her, each holding a hand. They were currently swinging their arms merrily, ignorant of the pain they were causing her. Megumi endured silently; the entrance to the restaurant was only a few feet away. Beside her, Pu'ar was giving her a pitying look.

They blinked as their eyes readjusted when they stepped inside. The hostess, a young girl with dark blue hair, looked up and grinned. "Megumi-chan!"

"Hello, Tomoyo-chan," greeted Megumi, smiling at her life-long best friend. 

The other woman leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially. "They've already arrived," she stated, nodding towards the corner of the restaurant. "You didn't tell me _she_ was going to be his date."

Megumi shrugged casually. "Is our table ready?"

"Follow me," commented Tomoyo perkily, grabbing four menus and setting off to the opposite side of the table. 

As they walked through the restaurant, Trunks studied Yamcha's latest date. Akane's red hair was tied back in a braid that fell down to her mid-back. She wore a white tank top and a pair of black jeans. She and Yamcha were animatedly discussing something, and from the gestures they were making, it was most likely baseball. Trunks grinned, feeling satisfied that Yamcha seemed to be enjoying himself.

Tomoyo showed them to their table and then left to go seat the next group of people who had just walked in. Megumi rubbed her temples as she shifted against the hard wooden bench. She was surprised that even now just seeing Fuseikoui Akane still made her sick to her stomach. 

Pu'ar noticed that Megumi seemed to be ill. She placed a fuzzy paw on the other woman's arm. "Megumi-san, something's wrong. What is it?"

"It's nothing. Really," stated Megumi in a strained voice.

Pu'ar sighed. The pink-haired woman seemed to have a stubborn streak to her. However, the curiosity was beginning to get to her. 

Meanwhile, on the other side of the restaurant, Yamcha found himself falling head over heels for Akane. She was smart, funny, sexy…the perfect woman. She listened avidly when he spoke, as if everything he said was the most important thing in the world to her. She laughed at his jokes, even the lame ones. Yamcha was beginning to hope for a happier ending to this date.

He took a sip of his beer and glanced across the restaurant to where Megumi and the others were sitting. Trunks and Goten must have had some sort of disagreement because she was currently trying to keep them from throwing wadded napkins at each other. Yamcha chortled at the sight.

"What's so funny?" asked Akane sweetly, looking up at him with a puzzled grin.

"Oh, nothing," muttered Yamcha, turning back to her.

However, Akane glanced around, looking for what had caused him to laugh. Her eyes fell on Megumi and her mouth dropped open. "Oh my goodness!" she gasped. "Will you excuse me?" she asked politely.

"Um…sure," he replied.

Akane stood up and strode over to the table where Megumi and the others were sitting. The pink-haired woman had just managed to separate the two bickering boys. She glanced up, expecting to see the waitress. She froze when she realized it was Akane.

"Megumi-chan!" cried Akane, her voice syrupy sweet. 

"Hello, Akane-san," replied Megumi, her voice flat and cold.

"I hadn't realized you'd gotten married," commented the redhead, glancing at the two boys.

"Oh, they aren't mine," Megumi corrected quickly.

"Still looking for 'Mister Right' then?" asked Akane with a smirk.

Megumi shrugged and turned away. Trunks and Goten glanced at each other. They had never seen Megumi at so stand-offish. Something was definitely wrong.

"Well, I'm glad I've had better luck," laughed Akane, gesturing towards Yamcha. "Well, I gotta run. Can't leave a man waiting. Ja ne!" 

"Ja ne," spat Megumi, glaring as she watched the redhead leave.

"Oh," murmured Pu'ar softly.

"What?" asked Megumi, turning to her.

"I think I just realized what was wrong."

Akane and Yamcha laughed as they walked up to the door of Akane's apartment. They had spent the last three hours dancing, laughing, and talking. Yamcha hated that the night was already over. As they stopped in front of her door, he steeled his courage.

"What are you doing next weekend, Akane-san?"

The redhead blushed and ducked her head. "Nothing. Why?"

Yamcha shrugged. "The team I coach has a game next Saturday. I thought if you wanted, you could come watch and then we could go out afterwards. Hopefully to celebrate our victory."

"I would love to," breathed Akane softly.

"Well…um…great!" he replied, laughing nervously.

"I had a great time tonight," commented the redhead.

"Yeah, me too," whispered Yamcha.

He leaned forward slightly, mesmerized by Akane's strawberry pink lips. She responded by shifting to her tiptoes. They paused for a minute and then for one wonderful, brief moment, their lips met. Yamcha broke the kiss and pulled away, stuffing his hands in his pockets. 

"I guess I'll call you later about next weekend."

"I can't wait," replied Akane. She smiled and then went inside. 

Yamcha calmly walked down the sidewalk and back out to his car. He got in and sat staring at the steering wheel for a moment. Then he cried "yes!," waving his fist in triumph.

Megumi pulled into Capsule Corp. She had spent the past three hours in the arcade across the street from the nightclub that Yamcha and Akane had gone to. She and Pu'ar had tried to spy on the couple while keeping tabs on the boys at the same time. Megumi was completely exhausted; she was tempted to ask Bulma for tomorrow off. 

Megumi was surprised when a young teenager stepped outside and approached the car. He grinned and waved at them as he walked up.

"Oniichan!" cried Goten.

Both Trunks and Goten leapt out of the car and ran to the teen. He laughed and hugged them. The boys were both talking simultaneously, each trying to share their version of the night's events. Megumi stepped out of the car.

"Good evening, Tereda-san," greeted the teenager politely. "I'm Son Gohan."

"He's my big brother," piped up Goten, grinning up at the older boy with admiration.

Gohan and Megumi shook hands. "Bulma-san and Vegeta-san went out tonight. They asked that I stay over so someone would be home when the boys got in," explained the teenager. 

"Well, then they're all yours," stated Megumi. "Tell Bulma-san that I'll see her tomorrow. 'Night boys."

"Night, Megumi-san!" they replied in unison.

Megumi watched Gohan try to steer the boys inside as she pulled away. They must have just gotten their second wind because they were running around the grounds yelling while the teenager was chasing after them. Megumi chuckled to herself and silently thanked kami that those two weren't her children. She didn't think she had what it took to handle those two.

Yamcha marched purposefully through the complex maze of corridors inside Capsule Corp. In his right hand he clasped a bouquet of cream-colored roses. He had been on his way to practice when he was struck with the brilliant idea to surprise Akane with flowers. The receptionist had informed him that Akane worked in the customer service office on the third floor. He was grateful for his years spent at Capsule Corp.; otherwise, he would have had to ask the receptionist for a map.

"Whatcha doing, Uncle Yamcha?" asked a voice behind him.

Yamcha turned to see Trunks trailing behind him. He grinned down at the boy. "Listen and learn, Trunks-kun. This is what we call 'earning brownie points.'"

"'Brownie points'?" asked the young boy, a confused look on his face.

"Yup. Stand back and watch the master."

Trunks shrugged and followed after Yamcha. They came to the customer service office. Yamcha paused and wiped his palms on his baseball jersey. 

__

Seize the day, he told himself.

"Are we going to just stand here and look at the door or are we going to go in?" commented Trunks. He crossed his arms over his chest and smirked, looking like a miniature Vegeta.

"Give me a second," snapped Yamcha. He took one more deep breath and stepped inside.

He scanned the office, looking for Akane's flame-red hair. She was no where in sight. He didn't let this deter him, however. Yamcha marched up to the front desk and grinned down at the dark-haired woman.

"Excuse me, is Akane-san here?"

"I'm sorry, she just left for lunch with her boyfriend," replied the woman.

"'Boyfriend'?" asked Yamcha, his stomach churning.

"Yeah…one of them. She has so many that I don't really bother keeping track." The receptionist looked up at him quizzically, eyeing the roses. "Who are you?"

Yamcha laughed weakly. "Just an old friend stopping by to say 'hello'. Too bad I missed her. Thanks."

The woman shrugged indifferently and went back to reading her romance novel. Yamcha turned and sulked out of the office. He leaned against the outside wall, pressing his forehead against the cool brick. 

"That didn't go too well, did it?" commented Trunks. He stared up at Yamcha with sympathetic baby-blue eyes.

"No, it didn't." Yamcha held the roses up and glared at them. "I guess I'll just throw these away…"

"You shouldn't waste them," stated Trunks hurriedly. "Why don't you give 'em to Megumi-san. For helping you and everything."

Yamcha glanced down at the lavender-haired boy. "Good idea, squirt." He set off down the hall towards the main offices. "See ya later, kiddo!"

"Bye, Uncle Yamcha!" called Trunks. He frowned slightly as Yamcha disappeared around the corner. So far two dates had failed. Maybe this entire "wife thing" was harder than he thought it would be. 

Megumi slammed the phone down in disgust. Her day had started off bad with her alarm clock not going off. She had run into work over an hour late. It had just gotten worse from there. She sighed and began rubbing her temples again. 

"Megumi-san?" asked a quiet voice.

The pink-haired woman looked up to see Yamcha standing in front of her desk. He was smiling shyly, a bouquet of roses clasped in his hands. "Oh. Yamcha-san! What are you doing here?"

He shrugged and gestured to the flowers. "I came by to see Akane…but she was out with one of her other boyfriends." He couldn't hide the bitterness in his voice. He was beginning to lose hope in ever finding someone decent. 

"Oh. I'm sorry," murmured Megumi. She stared down at her desk. "I should…I should have warned you.

"'Warned' me? About what?" asked Yamcha warily.

"Akane and I used to work in the same office before I was promoted. We were really good friends…until I found out she was cheating with my boyfriend." Megumi shrugged and smiled wryly. "I guess it should make me happy that she left him less than a month later for someone else."

"But it doesn't," whispered Yamcha softly.

"No. It doesn't."

Yamcha held the roses out to her. "Here. I want you to have them."

Megumi blinked. "But…"

"No. I won't let you refuse," replied the young man with a grin. "Please, take them."

She hesitantly reached out and took the bouquet. The roses were cream-colored with the tips of the petals stained pink. Megumi laughed. Those were her favorite. It was almost as if they were meant for her. "Thank you, Yamcha-san."

"You're welcome," he replied softly. 

Trunks watched from around the corner as Yamcha and Megumi talked to one another. The young boy smiled. If anyone deserved to receive roses, it was definitely Megumi. As he watched them, another idea crossed his mind. Maybe "the one" was right in front of them. 


	7. Liars and Legends

A/N: Thanks to all of you who encouraged me to keep writing this fic.  Sorry it took me so long to update.  I was struggling with MAJOR writer's block.  But I'm better now.  Anyway, I hope you enjoy the latest installment.  ^^

Trunks was brooding, and there was nothing more dangerous than a brooding Saiyan prince.  Things were not going according to _his _plans.  He had made a decision the afternoon that Yamcha had given Megumi the roses: the secretary was "the one."  Then _she _had come along.

Kakuzatou Waatame had arrived just in time to spoil Trunks' plans.  The petite blonde had somehow captured the former desert bandit's affections.  She and Yamcha had been on three consecutive dates.  Today would make number four.

Bulma was holding a barbecue at Capsule Corporation, and Yamcha was bringing Waatame along to introduce her to "the gang."  Trunks was currently watching his mother commanding the legion of caterers who had been hired to fix enough food to feed five Saiyans, plus several humans.  The guests were due to arrive at any moment and Bulma was on a warpath.  

The Son family was the first to show up.  Chichi quickly stepped in and joined Bulma in berating the caterers who were scurrying around frantically.  Goku and Gohan stealthily slipped away, heading off to find Vegeta.  Goten made a beeline for Trunks.  The older boy watched his best friend skip towards him, waving merrily.

"Konnichiwa, Trunks-kun!" shouted the youngest Son as he stopped in front of his friend.  He took a seat next to Trunks on the swing set.

"Hey, Chibi," greeted the lavender-haired boy, a weak smile on his face.

"What's wrong?" asked Goten, leaning closer to the other boy.

"It's nothing," muttered Trunks, shrugging slightly.

Goten opened his mouth to argue, but Kuririn and the other inhabitants of Kame Island arrived.  Eighteen, Chichi, and Bulma began to chat while Kuririn and Master Roshi tried to hush the squalling Marron.  The little girl caught sight of Trunks and Goten and immediately stopped crying.  She squirmed out of her father's grasp and ran towards the two boys, waving the dolls that she held clenched in her fists.

"Twunks!  Goten!  Let's play dollies!" yelled the blonde as she rushed towards them.

"Okay!" piped up the younger boy, smiling happily.

Trunks groaned and rolled his eyes, but he didn't protest.  The three children moved to the shade of a large cherry tree.  Marron rationed out her dolls, then dictated roles to each of the boys.  Trunks grudgingly obliged, but Goten happily participated.

Goku, Gohan, and Vegeta had reappeared when Kuririn arrived.  They stood in a loose circle as far away from the fussing women as they could get.  Tien and Choatzu arrived as the caterers were leaving; Piccolo showed up soon after.  Next came the Satan family and Buu.  Videl rushed to Gohan's side, much to Chichi and Mr. Satan's horror. Megumi was the next to show up; she had been invited by Trunks.  Lastly, Yamcha, Pu'ar, and Waatame arrived.

Pu'ar left the couple to join Oolong.  Waatame looked around nervously and then stepped closer to Yamcha; she wasn't very good around new people.  But these were Yamcha's friends.  She was sure she would like all of them.

Yamcha first led her towards the buffet table, where Bulma, Chichi, Eighteen, and Megumi were standing guard.  Waatame smiled shyly at the women.  Then her gaze fell over the pink puffball hovering close behind them.  Buu squinted down at her and then grinned.

"Hi pretty lady!" he greeted. 

"Er….hi," croaked Waatame in reply.

"Waatame, you know Bulma and Megumi. This is Chichi, Eighteen, and Buu," introduced Yamcha, smiling proudly.

"It's so nice to meet you!" stated Chichi politely.

"Hi," muttered Eighteen dully.

Waatame giggled nervously, and then turned to Megumi.  "Good day, Tereda-san," she greeted her supervisor.

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Megumi," corrected the pink-haired girl with a smile.  

Waatame forced a grin and then turned away.  She didn't know why she was so nervous.  She chided herself for being so silly.

About that time, Buu tried to snatch a cookie off of the closest banquet table; however, Chichi was ready.  She quickly smacked his hand with a ladle and frowned up at him.  Buu protectively held his hand to his chest and glared down at the brunette.  He grunted angrily, and for a moment, it looked like he was going to lash out at her.  Then, he suddenly grinned and patted Chichi on the head.

"I not hurt nice lady again!  Nice lady cook yummy food for Buu!" cried the pink puffball happily.

"Hurt…again?" muttered Waatame, her eyes wide.

"Um…let's go meet the others," stated Yamcha hurriedly, dragging her away from the group.  He led her over to where Piccolo was standing alone.  Waatame stared up at the impossibly tall, impossibly green man.  "Waatame, this is Piccolo."

"Um…hi," squeaked the young woman.

"Hello," growled the Namek, eliciting an "eep" from the newcomer.  Piccolo glanced over her shoulder, and Waatame turned to see another one of Yamcha's "friends" standing behind them.

"So this is your new woman?" drawled Vegeta, his ever-present smirk in place.

Yamcha scowled at the Saiyan.  "This is Bulma's _husband, Vegeta."_

"Oh.  Nice to meet you, Mr. Briefs," commented Waatame, politely. Vegeta blinked in surprise and Piccolo chortled.  The young woman frowned and turned to Yamcha.  "Did I say something wrong?"

The tall fighter laughed and shook his head.  "Don't worry about it.  Come on," he stated, pushing past the surprised Vegeta and leading her towards another group.

"This is Kuririn, Goku, Videl…" began Yamcha, pointing to each individual in the circle; however, Waatame wasn't listening.

"Oh my gosh!  I can't believe it!" she cried, her eyes wide.

Yamcha stopped his introduction and turned to stare at her cryptically.  Waatame's eyes were locked on the man standing in the middle of the circle.  A faint blush tinted her cheeks and her eyes were glistening with admiration.

"Mr. Satan!" she gushed, staring up at her idol.

"Er…" replied the "legendary hero."  He glanced around the group for support.  However, everyone seemed as surprised as he was.

"Oh wow!  Can I have your autograph!" asked Waatame eagerly, frantically searching for a scrap of paper and a pen.  She pulled out a note that Yamcha had left on her windshield, a silly little "love poem," and handed it over the incompetent fighter.

"Sure!" cried Mr. Satan, immediately slipping into his "impress the fans" mode.  Next to him, his daughter rolled her eyes.

"_Daddy_," she whined, fixing him with an admonishing look.  But nothing could tear Mr. Satan away from the glowing praise of one of his admirer's.

Yamcha watched despairingly as Mr. Satan signed his name across the back of the note that he had given to Waatame.  He suddenly wondered how much he really mattered to the blonde.  He mentally chided himself, trying to reason through it all.  She must not have realized what she had handed that idiot fraud.  

Yamcha finished his introductions, though he wasn't as enthusiastic as before.  Not that it really mattered.  Waatame had her eyes glued on Mr. Satan.  Every chance she got, she would hurry over and start another pointless conversation with the egomaniac.  

Vegeta slipped up next to the ex-bandit as Yamcha watched _his girlfriend fawn over the imposter.  The taller warrior expected the endless barrage of jokes and snide comments to begin at any moment.  However, the Saiyan simply stared at him with dark eyes._

"What do you want, Vegeta?" muttered Yamcha darkly, tearing his eyes away from the blonde.

"You don't seem to have very much luck with women, do you?" commented the prince dryly.  However, his voice betrayed the slightest hint of sympathy.  

"I guess I don't," replied the scarred man, letting out a heavy sigh.  He was surprised when Vegeta laid his hand on his shoulder.  Yamcha stared disbelieving down at the prince.  

As quickly as the moment had come, it passed.  Vegeta smirked up at him, and shoved Yamcha away from him causing the tall man to stagger backwards.  The prince turned on his heels and marched away.

The ex-bandit shook his head as he watched Vegeta walk off.  "I'll never understand that guy," he muttered.

He was surprised when Megumi suddenly appeared next to him.  She smiled nervously at him for a moment, and then glanced around as if she were being spied on.  "Hello, Yamcha-san," she muttered, moving closer as if seeking protection.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, touching her arm gently.

"It's just…"

Megumi was broken off when Buu popped up next to her.  He instantly swept her up in a bear hug.  "Pretty hair!" cried the puffball, stroking Megumi's pink hair that perfectly matched himself.

"Thank you, Buu-san," replied the young woman, gracefully pulling out of his grip.  Obviously this scenario had been going on for a while.  Megumi had tried to seek refuge with Yamcha, but her plan had failed.  

"Pretty, pretty, pretty," chanted Buu, patting Megumi on the head.

The pink-haired woman sighed and stared pitifully at Yamcha.  He forced himself not to laugh at her predicament.  He reached out and pulled Megumi to him, away from Buu.

"Buu-san, I think Chichi-san is about to serve some cake.  Why don't you go see if she needs help," lied Yamcha.

"Buu help!" exclaimed the former villain, clapping his hands.  He skipped off towards the serving tables, humming merrily to himself.

Megumi let out a sigh of relief.  "Thank you, Yamcha-san," she stated gratefully, resting her forehead on his shoulder.  "I thought I was never going to escape."

"Don't worry, Megumi-san.  I'll protect you!" joked Yamcha.

The young woman giggled.  She stepped back and glanced around.  "Where's Waatame-san?" she asked, searching for the blonde.

"She's over there," grumbled Yamcha, half-heartedly gesturing to where Waatame stood, glued to Mr. Satan's side.

Megumi's lips twisted into a frown.  She opened her mouth to speak, but she was interrupted by the outburst from the serving tables.  Buu and Chichi were battling over control of the cake server.  Yamcha excused himself and joined the other men in separating the two spastic opponents.

The afternoon seemed to drag by agonizingly slow, but finally the barbeque was over, and the crowd was beginning to disperse.  Yamcha practically had to drag Waatame from Mr. Satan's side.  Pu'ar, sensing that her company would just be a hindrance, had already left with Oolong and the other Kame House inhabitants. 

By the time Yamcha was pulling the car out of Capsule Corp., he was extremely perturbed.  Waatame, however, was still glowing from her encounter with her personal hero, and she didn't notice Yamcha's foul mood. 

The blonde rambled continuously about Mr. Satan, highlighting his "charismatic personality" and his "sincere concern for his fans" as his two best qualities.  Sickened by the conversation, Yamcha turned up the volume of the radio.  After he had done this three times, Waatame finally took notice.

"Is something wrong, Yamcha-kun?" she asked.  Her bottom lip stuck out in imitation of a pout.  He normally hung on every word she said, and Waatame wasn't used to him ignoring her.

"I'm fine," he replied as he glared darkly out at the street ahead.

"No you aren't, Yamcha-kun," replied Waatame in a sing-song voice.

Yamcha let out a heavy sigh.  "Well…" he began.

"Oh!  An ice cream parlor!" interrupted the blonde.  "Yamcha-kun!  I want ice cream!"

"Sure," grumbled Yamcha.  He pulled the car into an empty parking space.  Waatame didn't even wait for him to turn the car off before bounding out onto the sidewalk and into the ice cream shop.  Yamcha grudingly followed her inside.

After ordering two cones of double chocolate ice cream, the pair found a seat at a table next to the window that looked out across the street.  Yamcha stared at the passers-by while Waatame prattled on about her exciting encounter that afternoon.  After several moments, the blonde realized that he was still not listening to her.

"Yam-cha-kun!" she stated, exaggerating the syllables.  Waatame leaned across the table and grinned at him.  "What's the matter?" she asked sweetly.

Yamcha stared into her deep blue, soulful eyes and he felt his anger melt away.  "It's really stupid…" he muttered, feeling foolish. 

Waatame pressed a finger against his lips, silencing him.  "Nothing you ever say is stupid," she whispered.

He grinned and continued.  "You probably didn't realize it, but the piece of paper that you gave to Mr. Satan was that poem I wrote you the other day…"

"Oh!  I knew that was the poem," piped up Waatame, turning her attention back to her ice cream cone.

"Huh?" replied Yamcha.  He wasn't sure he had heard her right.

"It was the only piece of paper I had in my purse," casually explained the blonde.  "You can write me lots of poems, but it's not every day that I get to meet a superstar like Mr. Satan."

"I am so sick of Mr. Satan!" shouted Yamcha, slamming his free fist down on the table.

Waatame jumped slightly.  She began to blush when she realized the patrons nearest them were staring.  "Yamcha," she hissed.

"All you've talked about all day is Mr. Satan this, Mr. Satan that…I'll have you know that Mr. Satan is nothing more than a liar and a fraud."

"Yamcha!" exclaimed Waatame, sitting up straighter.  "How dare you!  Mr. Satan saved the world from Cell…"

The ex-bandit let out a bitter laugh.  "No, Mr. Satan didn't.  He just conveniently took the credit for everything the others did.  Gohan was the one who really saved the world from Cell."

The blonde snorted.  "Gohan?  You mean that _kid?  He couldn't have been any older than thirteen when Cell attacked…"_

"Yes, _Gohan_," retorted Yamcha.  

"And how would you know who really defeated Cell?" sniffed Waatame, turning away from him and sullenly licking her ice cream.

"I was there."

Waatame stared at Yamcha for a moment.  He sat perfectly still, watching her solemnly.  After a long pause, she began to laugh.

"What's so funny?" snapped Yamcha.

"I'm sorry, Yamcha-kun, but you don't really expect me to fall for that, do you?" replied the blonde, giggling loudly.

"I'm telling the truth!" he insisted.

The smile faded from Waatame's lips.  "I don't like you lying to me, Yamcha," she stated softly.

"I'm not lying!" he argued.  "I swear I'm telling the truth.  Just ask Vegeta, or Piccolo, or any of the others."

"And now I'm supposed to believe they were there too?" asked Waatame huffily.  Her bottom lip began to quiver as tears filled the corners of her eyes.  "What sort of idiot do you think I am?"

"I don't think you're an idiot!  I'm telling the truth!" yelled Yamcha.

Waatame stood suddenly.  "I don't think I want to talk to you any more, Yamcha-san," she stated curtly.  "It's not nice to tell lies to a sweet girl like me.  And then to say such bad things about Mr. Satan.  It's unforgivable!"

Waatame spun around and marched out of the parlor.  Yamcha watched her through the window as she disappeared down the street.  Grumbling to himself, he stood and threw away the rest of his ice cream before stepping outside.  For a moment he paused, trying to decide whether or not to follow after her.  He decided against it, opting instead for heading back to the sanctuary of his apartment.

Yamcha came home to an empty apartment just like he had most of his life.  With Pu'ar still out with Oolong, loneliness quickly seeped into his veins.  He shuffled to his bedroom and collapsed onto the bed; rolling onto his stomach, he pulled the phone off of the nightstand and dialed a now familiar phone number.  After a few rings, someone picked up.

"Hai.  Moshi, moshi," greeted a soft voice.

"Megumi-san?  Are you busy?"

To Be Continued….


End file.
